Scarlett O'Hare
by Vernon Danforth
Summary: Oh my stars...
1. Transformation

Transformation 

* * *

><p>I awake in the middle of the night. The bright red numbers on the alarm clock say two thirty four, but the clock is early. I always set my clock early, to wake up early. It's silly, I know, but it helps me.<p>

What wakes me up is the constant feeling of abdominals spasms. At first it's not that bad, just enough to coax me out of sleep, but suddenly it worsens. I feel sick, and throw the covers off immediately. I land on one mechanical knee, the floor cracking loudly under my heavy robotic limbs.

Disregard this, and scramble to my feet, and stumble into the bathroom. I fall to my knees at the toilet, and begin to puke, almost as if it were on cue. I don't remember ingesting something so... red. 

* * *

><p>Me? Okay, I suppose if you really want to know. My name is Bunnie Rabbot, and no, it's not a coincidence. This is a nickname given to me by the freedom fighters. Even though I hate this name more than you could possibly conceive, I don't say anything, because they saved me. I owe them my life, so they can call me what ever they want.<p>

Unlike most of the freedom fighters, I did not grow up fearing Robotnik. It isn't that he wasn't scary, because he was, and still very much is. I just lived on a farm, out in the middle of the forest, and it took longer for his reach to head to that side of the great forest.

I was very sheltered as a child. I didn't have any friends, the only people I knew where my parents. We didn't have any television, and my parents seldom went to town. Then, after a while, they just stopped altogether. I never got to go to town, because my dad said it was too dangerous. I would beg to go, but never to any avail.

I think they knew, they just didn't want to scare me. I think they knew that whole time about Robotnik, and we were just hiding from him, but they never told me anything. In fact, I'm pretty sure of it. Even when the time came, which wasn't long ago at all, they only told me to hide. 

* * *

><p>It was an ordinary day. Crazy things always happen on days that seem extremely ordinary, to the point where that line is incredibly clichéd. My dad was outside, working in the yard, and my mom was cleaning the windows. I was sitting at the kitchen table, drawing a picture of a pig.<p>

Suddenly my mom yells at me, telling me to hide, and runs out the front door. I ran for the cellar. You had to go outside to get to the cellar. Wooden double doors, sticking out of the ground, slightly angled with a chain on them. The cellar was locked, and it was too late. I was suddenly snatched by metallic arms, and hoisted into the air, kicking and screaming.

It was only after I heard the gunshots from the other side of the house that I just gave up, and wept. 

* * *

><p>I was escorted to a train. There was an abundance of mobians already in the cars. Prisoners, like me. Other mobians around me, being pushed into the cars ahead of me. Robots, and fleshy pink mobian-like creatures I now know as humans, were pointing guns, and doing the pushing.<p>

Only one person tried to escape. A grey cat just bolted, out of nowhere. I heard gasps, and murmurs behind me, and I turned to see him pushing others out of the way, trying to make it to some kind of sanctuary. They didn't even try to catch him.

A sudden gunshot; followed immediately by the grey cat's fall to one knee. The bullet had hit him in the right thigh, and there was blood visible all down his leg, as he tried vainly to stagger away. I could hear him grunting in pain as he forced himself, back to his feet. More gunshots landed him back to the ground, this time on both knees, as bullets entered his back, and ripped through his stomach, bringing vital organs with them.

I was suddenly pushed forward, and into the dark train car. The stink of body odor surrounded me, as I made my way through the crowded space. I found a place near the wall to sit. During this time, all I could really ponder was what they wanted with us. 

* * *

><p>Hours stacked on top of hours, I can only tell it's been more than one day because of the barred window placed directly above me. I havn't had anything to drink in a while, and it's been even longer since I have eaten.<p>

Sit down, lean my back against the wall. Perhaps rest can be attained, but doubtful. Not for lack of being tired, but there is simply too much on my mind to sleep. Too many unanswered questions. Too many answers to questions that I didn't want.

God, I have to pee. The car constantly rocking and shaking isn't helping either. 

* * *

><p>They brought us to Robotropolis, although at the time I had no idea what it was. If I stood on my tiptoes, I could see out the barred window. I figured we were in a city of sorts, noting all the large stone structures with windows. Those must be buildings. I had never been privy to anything quite like this.<p>

My feet were growing tired, so I leaned against the wall, and sat down with my knees to my chest. I tried not to think too hard about the situation, because every time I did, I cried. There wasn't much else to think about, though. A few of the people in the car were still hysterical, but most of them were staying silent, or crying to themselves.

I closed my eyes, and rested the right side of my face on my knees. It wasn't long after that the train stopped, and I could hear the doors unlocking. 

* * *

><p>As I said earlier, I didn't have any television or friends as a child. I liked taking care of the animals. I had a sense of accomplishment, a feeling that my presence was needed in order for their survival. In my leisure time, I would read, or draw. I loved books! Fantasy books were the best. I would pretend to be that beautiful princess awaiting a knight in shining armor. So childish and silly.<p>

I love to draw as well. I can sketch landscapes pretty well, but I could never capture the true beauty of them. My talent seemed to lean towards animals. Though my pictures weren't realistic, they were cartoonish, and cute. I would make characters, give them names, and put them in little scenarios.

Wish I had some paper.  
>Wish I had a pen.<br>Wish I had some food.  
>Wish I had a toilet.<br>Wish my parents weren't dead.

And despite having to pee, I'm extremely thirsty.

* * *

><p>It wasn't long before they forced us out of the car, and into a long line, going down the length of the train. The fleshy pink things were pointing in the direction to walk. After a while, one human pointed left, guiding us all through some double doors, and into a bright hallway.<p>

We traveled down this hall for a good time, passing by humans pointing what corridors to go down, and robots holding guns, making sure no one who tries to run makes it out alive. At the end of the hallway, I could see prisoners were taking either a left, or a right. I couldn't, however, see the human that was telling each one which way to go.

I later found out, the reason I couldn't see him at all until I got extremely close, was that he was incredibly small. He was bald, and he wore a lab coat. When I walked up to him, he looked at me, smirking. He appeared to be thinking real hard about where to send me. His smirk finally turned into a full smile, and he pointed left.

It was here I started to ponder what exactly was down this hallway, as opposed to the right one. 

* * *

><p>I am guided to yet another line in yet another hallway. This one I wait in for hours, just barely inching forward. Finally, we pass through some double doors into a very large circular room.<p>

People are lined up around the edge of the wall, and at the 180 mark, they are guided to the center of a room, into a large circle. A mobian, I can't tell what kind from here, is escorted to a chair in the center of this circle, and strapped down. Suddenly, a glass tube falls around him.

I lose all hope once I see the electricity surging through his body. 

* * *

><p>When the electricity stops, the tube rises again. A robot sits in the mobian's place. A few animals tried to run, choosing death over that fate. They were murdered right there. Just like the grey cat. Just like my parents.<p>

Maybe it isn't so bad, I think to myself. Lies. False solace. My wait is a long one, excruciating even. The wait was the worst part. Watching what horrible event was going to happen to you over and over again before your number is up.

My sobbing was getting loud, and probably very annoying by now. 

* * *

><p>It takes what seems like an eternity before I'm next. I could hear gunshots coming from the hallway I came in through. Someone must have tried to escape. The tube rises in front of me, and the newly created robot is released from his straps, and he exits. The man who helped him out turns to me, and smiles.<p>

He grabs my hand, and leads me to the chair. I don't fight him. Feel like I should, but no longer posess the will. I just sit down in the chair, and let him strap me in. I watch him scurry back to safety, then I look up at the ceiling. I can see the tube already making its way down. I watch as it closes around me, sealing me from the outside world.

I was suddenly struck by the most painful thing I have ever experienced. This was followed shortly by unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>I wake up to glass shards raining down all around me. I'm already screaming when I wake up, or at least I think I am. The glass tube around me has been obliterated, and I can see my savior running toward me. He braves the falling glass to my chair, and starts to relieve me of my restraints.<p>

"Are you okay?"

I've stopped screaming by now, and I just stare stupidly at him. Am I alright? I look down, and what I see makes me start screaming again. 

* * *

><p>He keeps telling me it's okay, that I'm alright, but it isn't until I notice my right arm is still normal that I stop screaming. He finishes freeing me, and stands up, holding out his left hand to help me up. I take it, and pull him into a hug, sobbing hysterically. I only use my right arm, as not to hurt him. He hugs me back, and speaks quietly to me.<p>

"Can you run?" 

* * *

><p>I followed him, keeping up with him as best as I could. This hedgehog was extremely fast, and I could tell he was slowing down a lot for me. It was extremely difficult to get used to running efficiently with robotic legs. It's very clumsy at first. He knew which way to go to get out, and it didn't take long. He said there was some sort of distraction going on, but it wouldn't last forever. <p>

* * *

><p>We headed for the door where the robots exited, and took a left into a white hallway. Everything looks the same in here, and I'm hoping this hedgehog knows what he is doing. As I hear the gunshots, and screams of my fellow mobians around me, my fear is suddenly replaced by anger.<p>

I realize my intense prejudice towards these fleshy bags, and my hatred for them pushes me further than I thought it could ever go. My thoughts of hope, replaced by the urge to kill every last human and robot I come across.

Clench a steel fist as I try valiantly to keep up. Exhaustion is no longer even an issue for me. I see the hedgehog turn a corner, jumping into a spin dash as his body faces another direction, cutting into something living that I can't see. Blood coats the walls ahead of me, and I catch up to see that the hedgehog has almost completely obliterated a tall, skinny human.

Organs lay everywhere, and his two halves lay on the floor. Split directly down the middle. I stop, and stare for a few seconds, but then I feel the hedgehog's hand on mine, pulling us towards salvation.

Not before I snatch the dead human's pistol off the ground with my right hand. 

* * *

><p>We run, taking a left into the unmarked door of a workshop of some sort. We are greeted by gunshots, but they were thrown off as well by our sudden burst into the room, so the shots weren't accurate. I can feel bullets ricocheting off my metal arm while shielding my face.<p>

The hedgehog took off; I didn't even see him go. Turned a metal table over with my robotic arm, and ducked behind it. I could hear the sound of the assortment of objects on the table hit the ground, followed by more gunshots. I think there are three of them, perhaps four.

The table behind me is filling with dents, and I decide something should be done very soon when a bullet rips through a dent right next to me. Jump up to see what's going on for a second. Sonic has spin dashed through one of the humans, and taken refuge behind a table on the opposite side of the room. There are two humans left, and one robot.

Duck back down, quickly. Time to think fast. 

* * *

><p>Dash from behind the table, and over to the left wall, back hitting against it hard. Bring my right hand up, with the gun in it. Try to aim as best I can, which isn't very good with my right hand. Pull the trigger, firing almost blindly into the general direction.<p>

Unload the gun, but only kill one of the humans. He turns, and begins firing at me, when I see the blue blur zipping behind the human, into another spin dash through the tall man's chest. The robot has been occupied with the hedgehog, chasing the blur in vain. Brandishing claws, it heads in my direction.

Take this opportunity to step forward, and catch the robot from the side, bringing my steel fist down like a hammer, disfiguring its metal head, and sending bolts flying. It staggers, but it isn't dead. Stifle its movement by bringing my arm down on it repeatedly.

I kneel over the smashed robot, breathing heavily, but it isn't from being tired. It's a result of the adrenaline rush. I have never quite been privy to anything like this. What happened to me? A gloved hand reaches out in front of me, and I look up to see the hedgehog smirking at me.

"You aren't too bad. My name's Sonic. What's your name?"

Scarlett

"Scarlett?"

Nod.

Scarlett O'Hare

"Doesn't fit"

What?

"You should join the Freedom Fighters. We could use someone like you."

Tell you what. Let's make a deal. You get me out of here, and not only will I join your group, but you can call me whatever you want. 

* * *

><p>He leads me from the workshop, down some similar hallways. Moving so quickly it doesn't seem possible to take in my surroundings. Keeping up with Sonic isn't too much trouble now. Follow him through this maze of white, and pray to the gods he knows what he is doing.<p>

I trust him.

Left, right, right, left, right, left, left, it gets too confusing, so I stop keeping track. Suddenly a door opens in front of me, and a human comes out. Blood spews from every orifice on his face as I bring my left hand into an uppercut. His chin is pushed in, and he stumbles sideways between the closing door and the wall.

Door closes on his shoulder. Put my foot on it to keep him in place, and bring a left hook to his face, caving it in entirely, finishing off the job. Humans are a lot easier to kill than robots, I've noticed.

"Don't you think that's overkill?" Sonic asks me.

I scoff, and turn.

Just lead the way, Mr. Buzzsaw.

A really bad joke. Inappropriate, too. He doesn't laugh, but he doesn't say anything else. We keep moving towards the exit, which I am hoping is very close. 

* * *

><p>We went through another unmarked door, and I was happy to see I was greeted by sunlight. A walrus is waiting for us by the door, and I almost attacked him before I realized he was a mobian.<p>

"The plan went accordingly. We have to get the hell out of here, though," the walrus tells Sonic, who replies, "Right. You take Bunnie to Knothole, I'm going to make sure they don't follow us back to the village."

The fat walrus turns to me.

"Nice to meet you Bunnie. My name is Rotor."

Shrug, and shake his odd flipper thing.

Hi Rotor. I guess I'm Bunnie. 

* * *

><p>VD<p>

LazerTH 


	2. Disorientation

Disorientation 

* * *

><p>Rotor was a great deal slower than Sonic. I had to slow down for him as we made our way through the city. I even had the time to take in the scenery. Take note of the details. This part of the city looks as though it has been out of commission for quite some time.<p>

The street is torn to shit, craters filled with dirt, and what was left of the somewhat smooth cement is covered in broken pieces of concrete. I kick one of the larger rocks, breaking it, and sending the smaller bits in all different directions.

I am amazed at my own strength. Perhaps this wasn't entirely misfortune after all. Perhaps God did this to me for a reason, as if I was chosen. I am needed to bring down this despicable empire, and all that it stands for. Right the wrongs I never even knew existed until today.

I honestly can't seem to understand what has become of me. My life has completely changed within the last couple of hours. I don't even hold my own name. Scarlett O'Hare is dead, and her family died with her. I've been born again, Bunnie Rabbot, and I still remain in a transition period.

I can't see too far into the future, other than what's at the end of this block.

* * *

><p>It turns out I let my guard down too soon. We are a long way from any kind of sanctuary. I came to this conclusion when two things happened. The first thing was I could hear an alarm sounding. The second thing was when these three giant mechanical hornets came out of nowhere, dropping bombs directly onto the street.<p>

I see them before Rotor. I am busy questioning what I see to notice what he is doing. Suddenly I'm being dragged into a nearby building and an explosion happens very close to where I was standing. Rotor opens the door to the dilapidated building, some kind of shop of sorts. He removes the pistol from the holster on his chest, and runs back out there.

As if I was that helpless. Look around the shop, for possibilities. It would be hard to kill these things from foot, as they fly, and drop bombs from the sky. A staircase catches my eye, and I smile. I did, in fact, see windows over the door. 

* * *

><p>Traveling up the stairs, I note the wooden steps cracking under my weight. I pray to God that they don't break, and slowly make my ascent.<p>

Travel all the way to the third floor, and look for a window. I wander over to where I think the front door might be located. No windows; only doors. Lots of doors. Every door has a small metal square with a number engraved on it. 326, 327, 328, and so on.

Pick one at random, 327 it is, and kick the door in. The door breaks inward, in two pieces, and falls to the ground before me. Apparently the door was supposed to open outward. Walk through to see that I'm in someone's sleeping quarters. Notice the window across from me, and hurry to it.

Not a lot of time to waste, I think to myself, as I punch the glass, spilling shards on both the interior and exterior of the building. Peer below me to see one of the giant hornets dropping bombs in the street. Rotor managed to kill the other two, I think. The alarm can still be heard in the distance.

This is my chance. Take a couple of steps back, and take a deep breath. I'm going to try an aerial assault on this little bastard. Spring forward towards the open window, and leap with all my might. Tuck my legs in just enough to clear the window. That feeling of freefall tells me this was a bad idea.

Try to shift my weight, trying to veer forward, to squash the mechanical bug from the sky. Closer, and closer I get to the machine, as the ground closes in as well. Almost, so close I can feel it. I reach for it, and…

Miss. 

* * *

><p>Luckily land on my feet, making yet another large crater in the cement. Shockwaves pulse through my body, and I am too stunned to move. Sitting duck. I close my eyes, and wait for the inevitable. I wait for the bomb to drop, the one ending my short meaningless existence.<p>

It doesn't come though. Instead I hear a gunshot, and the bug falls to the ground in front of me. All I can do is collapse in exhaustion. 

* * *

><p>"Come on! We have to leave now!"<p>

He is pulling my real arm, and it's starting to really hurt. Decide it's best to work with him, and I manage to stand. Fall victim to a coughing fit, as I stand to the ground.

"I think I damaged something."

This barely comes out, as I manage to stagger forward. The stagger quickens to a half-assed jog.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Ignore this question, and just keep walking. I'm okay.

I think. 

* * *

><p>The walk quickly turns into a run. There is a new mechanical whine to my pace, or maybe I just didn't notice it before. There's another explosion, and turn to see one of the larger buildings in the city reduced to a pile of flames and smoke.<p>

I turn around and run to catch up to Rotor. I think he is still being pissy about that whole stunt thing I tried, and to tell the truth, I feel pretty dumb. That wasn't a good idea at all. 

* * *

><p>My walk is definitely different and more uncomfortable to maintain. The borderline of flesh that meets the steel is burning, as if the robotic limbs were overheating. We made it out of the city a while back; now we wander through the forest.<p>

He is at least ten steps ahead of me. Earlier I had to wait for him to catch up to me, now I'm struggling. Odd how these things work out. My vision gets fuzzy, and I find myself asking this walrus if it's close, but he doesn't hear me.

Try to say it louder, but it is interrupted by coughing. Fall to my knees. My head is spinning. Colors melt together as the ground gets closer and closer. Something's amiss. Face makes contact with the forest floor, leaves crunching beneath me.

Inhalation of dirt causes more coughing. This is all I remembered before passing out. 

* * *

><p>"What happened?"<p>

"I don't know, she just fell over, and started twitching."

"Shit."

"We can't just leave her here!"

"I know. I didn't plan on it. Just let me think." 

* * *

><p>Vague conversation. Little snippets; that's all I can catch. Everything is distorted, nothing is right. What the hell is going on? I can feel the world around me, but it's almost as if I'm not allowed to be a part of it.<p>

Yet. 

* * *

><p>"This isn't going to work. She's too heavy."<p>

"Damn it."

"Look, I'll stay here. You jet back to the village and get some people. Four or five of us ought to be able to handle her." 

* * *

><p>A dream? Yes, it must have been. I'm quite sure of it now, thinking to myself about how silly the whole idea was. Open my eyes, and a bright light overcomes them. The light was turned on recently. My eyes can't handle it, so they are forced closed again. After a few seconds squinting is possible.<p>

Where am I? Silhouettes speak to each other so quietly that it isn't  
>possible to understand what is being said from my side of the room. Eyes have adjusted, making it possible to keep my eyes open. Seem to be in a bed, in white room. Examine my hands.<p>

Fuck. It wasn't a dream.

Across the room from me is a mobian in a white coat speaking with my savior. Instead of saying anything I try to listen. Bits, and pieces can be made out, but most of it is mumbled jargon. Most of what is heard adds up to me being medically fucked.

I think.

Close my eyes, and lay my head back on the pillow. No idea how long it has been, but it doesn't matter. Still a bit tired. Might as while rest while I can. If all of that was real, who knows what kind of crazy shit is next?

* * *

><p>In my dream, I am an angel sent from God soaring over trees, meadows, and mountains. Anything is possible it seems. An approaching city beckons me over the horizon, and it seems only right to seek it out. Gliding through the air, it almost seems like this is really happening.<p>

As the city gets closer sounds can be heard emanating from the brightly glowing city. Night has come, and the only things in my line of vision are those beautiful, bright lights. The sounds are unrecognizable until I get closer.

They are screams. The sounds of crying mobians. This makes me sad, as I slow to a stop just outside of the city. The lights get brighter, and regret of flying to the city suddenly arises. Back away slowly, facing the city. It's calling me. It's my purpose.

No. It scares me too much, and I am unable to do it. Look down at my body to see that I am glowing as well. Just like the city, but not all of me. The right half of my torso, and the arm are not glowing. Both of my legs are, and my left arm is too. The light begins creeping over to the right side of my chest, and this scares me more than anything in that entire city. 

* * *

><p>My savior keeps asking questions, and seems genuinely concerned. This makes me feel better about my current situation. What is left of my body feels as though it is swelling. Pounding migraine, and my blood is boiling. Sweat pours from every possible place, making my fur soaked and smelly. Start coughing and convulsing. This doesn't feel good. Where flesh and metal meet itches like fire.<p>

My savior stands over me, shining brightly in the light. Try to smile, but suddenly he is pushed away by the man in the white coat. He puts some white cloth around his face, and glares down on me. He pulls a syringe off the table next to him. The needle is extremely long, and it has already been filled with some clear substance.

He stabs it into my chest, injecting the contents into my heart. It doesn't feel good at all, and I can't help but feel scared. Vision gets blurry, and lights dim, as my eyes close, and I drift into the blackness. 

* * *

><p>Drifting in and out.<p>

Having trouble distinguishing imagination from reality.

I am not whole, and blood covers the bed around me.

The right side of my torso and my waist down is just gone.

Once I was whole, then transformed.

Now it is all gone.

What the hell is happening to me? 

* * *

><p>VD<p>

LazerTH 


	3. Ant

Ant

* * *

><p>Riding down a spiral, a thick spiral made of light. The ground draws closer, and it bears the city of similar light upon it. The city grows larger and larger still. This time stopping isn't possible. Neither is slowing down. It just goes faster and faster. Heart pounding and breath racing, I try to grab onto the sides of the glowing spiral to slow myself down.<p>

The spiral isn't a physical thing, so I can't touch it. I just move down the cascade of light. Started off with wide circles; moving slowly to the center, now things are moving quickly. The spiral gets smaller, and vision gets blurry. Harder to make things out; just colors. Getting dizzy, but luckily I'm not getting sick.

Trying to escape the spiral, a conclusion dawns upon me. I am part of the spiral, and the spiral is fate. Riding it through is inevitable, and it's futile to fight back. It all makes sense now. Close my eyes, and relax, as the ride takes its course. It isn't until the screaming of the mobians below me is within hearing range that I start to feel frightened once more.

I have to finish this. I have to do it, but fear is overwhelming me.

I'm so afraid.

* * *

><p>Awake.<p>

It's different from the last few times though. The presence of pain and bewilderment are gone. A different room, too, surrounded by a curtain. Look down at my body, but it's covered by a blanket. Slowly close my right hand around the thin sheet, and pull it off.

The roboticization happened, I know this for sure. Last time I checked the metal was rusted, a very dark brownish-blackish color. It definitely did not shine, and definitely didn't have a lavender tint to it. It was bulky, box-like, and stupid. Now it's sleek with a smooth surface.

Raise my left arm while opening and closing my fingers. Everything seems to be functioning perfectly. Reach my left hand over to the metallic forearm, and slide my fingers across it. It's cold to the touch.

The curtain slides open, and I can't help but let out a yelp, and jump slightly. What can I say? It was sudden, and it startled me. Look up to see the face of my savior. Yelp again, but this time it's different. Lurch forward, and latch onto his torso.

Thank you.  
>"Uhm... You're welcome?"<p>

* * *

><p>He told me everything. He explained how the robotic parts attached to me were killing what was left of my mobian body by poisoning it with an assortment of chemical compounds that should never be a part of the mobian circulatory system. I'm really glad that they understood my condition, because I had a horrible time keeping up with all of this. I just kind of nodded, and said "yeah" a lot.<p>

Yes, even if you only have one fourth of a circulatory system. He explained to me in words that I could not even begin to understand. He said the new metallic parts somehow preserved the rest of me, and worked with the circulatory system instead of against it. Something like that, I think.

The thing he stressed the most was the fact that I needed to be careful. He says an assortment of weapons and defense mechanisms have been added to my robotic parts. He went on about how he had to really talk the doctor (and the scientist that was hired specifically for my case) into doing it. Apparently the doctor doesn't think an arm cannon is too cool.

He said that none of it was armed, but that other things needed to be done beforehand. No idea what he meant by that, but whatever. He tells me I can leave now, and that he will show me to my hut.

What the hell is a hut?

* * *

><p>A hut turned out to be my own little living quarters, complete with a bathroom, bed, nightstand with lamp, and some kind of weird communication device. I think he called it a phone. There is a small desk adjacent to the foot of the bed. Sitting here at the desk, I open the drawers to see what is inside, and smile to see pens and paper.<p>

Tear the plastic off the stack of paper with one easy movement, and put the stack back where it was taken from, save for one slice of paper. Take a pen in my robotic arm, and place it on the paper. The tip sits at a point, near the lower left corner, and I close my eyes. Visualize the picture in my head.

Drag the pen across the paper, and the line that I make is crooked, and ugly. Great. Absolutely terrific. My hand can turn into a damn cannon, but I can't even draw a picture of a bird anymore.

Guess that's the price I have to pay for a second chance at life.

* * *

><p>Breakfast comes very early in the morning, but waking up early isn't a problem for me. We eat in a cafeteria they call the mess hall. The food doesn't look good at all, but I have no room to complain. At least there is this moment. At least my life still remains.<p>

It feels like that is really all I'll ever have now; until death, that is. Figure that celebrating my life is better than complaining about spongy eggs. Who knows? It might taste good. It smells rank, though. Sitting alone at this long white table. The tables have little plastic stools connected to the metal foundations that support the table.

I was sitting alone. Until he came along, that is. He sat right next to me, and spoke to me nervously. Stuttering his words, with an accent I had never quite been privy to. It was very cute though.

I liked him immediately.

"I vaz zitting over zere, ven I noteeced you vere all alone. I don't zink I haff seen you around."

I can't help but smile. Blood rushes to my cheeks, and my stomach gets butterflies. Never felt this way before.

I just got here.  
>"Vi, and vat eez your name?"<p>

"Scar-" No. She's dead. The past is over. "Bunnie." It's such a silly name.  
>"Bunnie Rabbot"<p>

"Eez zeese one of Zonic'z zilly nicknames?"  
>Heh. I'm not the only one?<br>"Non. He callz me Ant"  
>Oh? What is your real name?<br>"Antoine D'Coolette."  
>Nice name.<br>"Vat eez yours?"

A sigh.

Scarlett O'Hare.  
>"I like it."<br>I don't  
>"Vy? Eet eez zuch a beauteefool title."<p>

Look into his eyes, and feel my heart melting. I don't want to disagree with a face like that. He could be telling me to murder children, and I might actually consider it. Bring my robotic hand up between our faces, allowing him to examine it.

All that it does is to remind me of my past. Who I used to be.  
>"Ah, but who you useed to be, is very important. Ze past defines you, you know."<p>

Break eye contact. Stare at my Styrofoam tray, with the uneaten breakfast on it. Pick up the cup with the untouched coffee.

"Maybe."

Sip the coffee, and the burning liquid makes its way halfway down my throat before reacting violently. My robotic limbs start violently convulsing, and I fall to the floor of the mess all, spilling hot coffee over my fur, soaking it. Look up to see Antoine looking down at me, worried, and then darkness overwhelms me. Again.

* * *

><p>Where is this? A forest it would seem, but in a clearing by a pond. Stare up into the sky, but can't seem to find the moon. Clouds cover the sky like a blanket, and they darken as if it were about to rain. It never comes, just the sound of thunder in the distance.<p>

Suddenly the clouds part, and the most beautiful, purest of light breaks through. It's not like the lights of the city; it's pure white. It washes over me in a beam, and showers me with its divinity. It lets me know that everything will be okay, and utopia isn't too far away. It tells me it needs me, to be there and be strong.

I trust the light. It's nice.

* * *

><p>The doctor is standing on the left side of my bed, and the scientist on the right. At the other side of the room, Sonic is sitting in the chair with his arms crossed. He looks very annoyed. The doctor and scientist stare down at me nervously.<p>

What happened? This must have been the twelfth fucking time I've just passed out like this within the last couple of days. What day is it?

"We forgot to mention, Bunnie," the doctor says with a fake smile plastered across his face, "you have no stomach. You no longer have any reason to eat. In fact, ingesting food is very bad for you, and shouldn't ever be done."

The scientist nods. "Especially liquids"

I feel dumb now.

* * *

><p>"I know it wasn't your fault, but you have to understand that..." Sonic fades in and out. I'm not really paying him any mind, as my attention is drawn towards the halfbreed coyotedog in the hall, sitting on the bench. Antoine waited for me. I feel so special. "..these repairs are very expensive, and though I am rich, I don't have infinite funds to..."

I can't believe that he actually waited out there all that time, on the crappy wooden bench with nothing to read or occupy his time. He's so cute...

"Bunnie?"  
>Hm? Oh, right.<p>

What?  
>"Are you listening?"<br>Yes! Of course...

* * *

><p>He doesn't notice me approaching, and I manage to sit on the bench next to him before he even catches wind of me. He looks up from the ground, and directly into my eyes. His worried look is replaced by a smile.<p>

"Eet eez goot to zee you are vell, miss O'Hare"  
>Why do you care so much?<br>"I don't know. I tink I haff grown attached to you."  
>That's sweet. I like you too.<br>"Apologies miss O'Hare, but I haff some buisiness I haff to attend to. Perhaps ve could meet somewhere tonight?"

Yes. Oh God, yes.

* * *

><p>Somewhere in the forest, no idea how far, or what direction from Knothole. We sit by a beautiful pond, stars' reflections distorted, rippling back and forth. When I wasn't staring into Antoine's beautiful blue eyes, I couldn't help but stare at the moon. I always had a fascination for that great, glowing grey ball in the sky, but from here it looks different. As if it was closer.<p>

Do you ever want to go there, Antoine?  
>"Go vere?"<p>

Point at the sky, towards the giant floating rock.

The moon, I say.

"Non."  
>Why not?<br>"Who knows what kind of problems one might occur from zuch a place."  
>We spend our entire lives staring up at the moon. Wouldn't you like to turn the tables, for once?<br>"Zere haff been many space explorations. I haff seen many pictures."  
>Pictures never do anything justice.<br>"If I were on ze moon staring back at Mobius, ze distance would be so great zat it vould be like lookink at a picture."

You're no fun, I say with a giggle.

He looks away from the pond, and locks his eyes with mine. Neither of us say a word, he just leans forward, and kisses me.

Oh, Antoine.

Content with pictures instead of the real thing. Content with the shell of a woman that I am, unable to reproduce, or even have sexual relations.

All of this hits me in an instant, and I cry. Can't help but feel a little dumb, when I break the kiss sobbing, and I don't know what to say. I just want him to know that it isn't his fault. He looks confused as my face buries itself in his chest, leaving wet spots all over his blue jacket.

He doesn't say a word. He just wraps his arms around me, and holds me. After calming down, my breathing slows, and I close my eyes. Oh, Antoine.

I think it's love. Love without sex.

Fuck.

* * *

><p>VD<p>

LazerTH


	4. Trust

Trust 

* * *

><p>Running through the city, bombs dropping around me. I'm scared, and pretty sure this isn't a dream. The buzzbombers fly past, and circle around, coming towards me. Point my arm at the one on the left, the hand quickly transforming into a cannon.<p>

The cannon feeds off a certain kind of energy that generates itself. It's easy to waste, but extremely helpful in that ammunition is kind of infinite. The plasma bolt shoots from the cannon, and the buzzbomber on my right explodes. The buzzbomber to my right drops a bomb. See it in my peripheral, and try to dodge-roll to safety, but it isn't good enough.

Shrapnel flies at me from the right side. The unprotected side. Tiny shards of metal force their way through my fur and skin. Try to retaliate quickly, but my energy has run temporarily dry. I'm pissed now. The jets in my feet kick on, propelling me high in the air, towards the circling metal hornet, and bring my left fist up into the robot, just above the abdomen. The machine goes limp, and I catch it with my forearm against my robotic chest.

Grip one of the legs in my fingers, hard enough to crush the metal in my hand. Spin around once in mid-air to gather momentum, and fling the robotic carcass towards a building, managing to make it crash through the window and blow up inside the house.

Damn, I'm getting good. 

* * *

><p>Sonic had called me into some kind of office to meet the top around here, and to get briefed on a mission. Things got too comfortable, and they sure as hell couldn't stay that way for very long. So in I was brought to meet this princess, or queen, or whatever, and she isn't there yet. Me and my savior converse to pass the time.<p>

So, do I get to give you a nickname as well?  
>"Heh. Sonic is my nickname."<br>Is that a fact? What's your real name?  
>"Maurice."<br>Doesn't fit.

He looks up at me, and blinks. He starts chuckling, and looks back down at his shoes.

"Yeah... I know." 

* * *

><p>The details of the room are meaningless, or maybe I just can't remember. I don't know; it doesn't matter. Sit down next to Sonic. After about ten minutes or so, a squirrel (with red hair, oddly enough), walks in and sits across the desk in front of us. She first apologizes for being late, and all is forgiven. She seems nice.<p>

"Bunnie, I would like you to meet Sally."

She sticks her right hand out to shake. Shit, why did it have to be the right hand? Extend the robotic hand, and grab onto hers. Try my best not to crush her tiny, frail hand. Blood rushes to my face, and it feels hot in here. I admit to being embarrassed, and lacking in self confidence around her.

"How are you feeling?"  
>Hm? Oh, I'm well.<p>

As well as I possibly could be, but she seems like she cares, and it makes me feel a bit better. Try to smile for her, feeling for some reason like I need to. Ask her how she's doing, and she tells me she has been better. 

* * *

><p>So basically, in a nutshell, I'm a distraction. My job is to wander into the city and draw as much attention as possible from the point of interest. The point being a factory in which this Robotnik guy is building his army of robots. While the distraction is taking place, Sonic is set to sneak inside said factory, place a time bomb, and bolt.<p>

If all had gone according to plan, we would have made it out safely, with little damage, and slowed the production of minions to a standstill. Things did not go according to plan, and only got half of what we wanted. What exactly happened that day is still unknown to me. 

* * *

><p>"You remember the rendezvous point, right?"<br>Yes. A thousand times yes.

My savior is beginning to get on my nerves. He has asked me this question a few times already, and every time he asks, he tells me the answer even after telling him I knew it.

"Hey, sorry. I'm just worried, that's all."  
>I know. Sorry, I'm not sure what's wrong with me today.<p>

We walk through the forest. Decide to answer in his place. By the Ring Pool, I say. He smiles at me, as we reach the base of a small rocky mountain range before us. It's actually really large, just small in comparison to the mountains around where I lived.

It seems so long ago. Think back about how climbing the mountains was something I always wanted to do, but never got the chance. 

* * *

><p>After the meeting with Sonic, and Sally I walked back to my hut. Mission starts early in the morning, so sleep would seem like a good idea, but it doesn't come. Laying there in the dark, with my eyes closed, I am suddenly struck by fear. Pick up the phone with my right arm, and lazily cradle the phone between my shoulder and ear. Reach over and dial the numbers with the newly freed hand.<p>

I need to talk to Antoine. This might be my last chance. 

* * *

><p>We meet at the lake, and he is already waiting for me. How sweet.<p>

"Iz zere zomezing you vanted to talk aboot?"  
>Yeah...<br>"Vat?"

Don't say anything at first. Just wrap my arms around him. Just want to relish this as long as I can. Break my grip, only to kiss him. Still amazed he would want me, out of everyone at Knothole. Me, who can't fulfill any needs he would have, or be of any use to him, other than love. So I thought.

"Now, vy don't you tell me vat iz bozerink you?"  
>Okay. Here goes… <p>

* * *

><p>We walked up the rocky hill together. Could have flown myself, but it burns fuel. Fuel is different from the energy, as it can run out, and I want to save it for when it's necessary for survival. Plus, might as well keep my savior company as he hikes up this mountain, instead of just blasting past him and leaving him all alone.<p>

He reaches the peak, and I lag a few steps behind. Almost joining him on the peak, I slip and fall, but luckily catch myself on my robotic hand, and knees. Skid back a few feet, but nothing major. Start to get up when his voice can be heard calling down to me.

"Are you okay?"  
>Yeah.<p>

And just as I start to smile and look up, the plan is immediately completely fucked. Sonic was standing at the peak of the mountain when his head was destroyed, the unknown force sending him tumbling down the hill towards me. Only after this happens can the loud bang that most likely caused this be heard. Open arms, and catch his falling body, but his momentum is too much to stifle entirely, and he and I backslide down the mountain. 

* * *

><p>He's fucking dead! My savior's head is gone, and his blood covers my face. Holding his limp body to my chest, and sobbing into the bloody mess is all it seems I'm able to do at this point. I can't believe it. I don't even know what to do. How did this happen?<p>

What exactly just happened? Where the hell do I take it from here? 

* * *

><p>The quality I hate the most about myself is my inability to keep my problems to myself. I vented to Antoine, burdening him with every little detail of the problems I harbored. The details of the plan, and the fear that it wasn't going to work. What scared me most was the thought of never seeing him again.<p>

After only a few days of knowing him, I've fallen completely head-over-heels with this man. Anywhere that he would go, I would follow blindly. He could lead me off a cliff if he really wanted to, and that would even be okay.

I trust him with everything, but at the same time I feel selfish and stupid for hitting him with an onslaught of emotion, confusion, and fear. He comforts me, and it's easy to find solace in his voice alone. I wish there was some way to make up for all the worrying and trouble that he has endured because of me.

Kiss him during a shared moment of silence. He deserves so much more... 

* * *

><p>Finally stopped crying. My sadness has once again been replaced with bitter hatred. No sense of fear; just a need to avenge my fallen savior. My life was owed to him, and this is a debt I intend to repay, even if I couldn't save his. Whoever this Robotnik scumbag is, he's going down.<p>

Pull the backpack off of Sonics back, which thankfully didn't explode. Throw it over my shoulder, and start back up the mountain. I'm going to finish the mission by myself. 

* * *

><p>Getting through the city and to the factory wasn't hard at all. You'd think I would be easily spotted in broad daylight; a rabbit cyborg walking through a city whose population consists solely of humans and robots, but not a single snag on the way in. The factory doors were unattended, and I just walked right through. Beyond the door was a large factory, machines putting machines together, parts moving this way and that on conveyer belts.<p>

Sneak towards the center of the large room, just in case there might be someone there. Better safe than sorry. Activate the bomb, and the counter starts at ten. Hmm, that's odd; it seems to be in the 'seconds' column.

Oh shit.

Jets kick on, and fly toward the closest window, shielding my head and neck with my arms, and break through the glass at breakneck speed. This is when I start getting noticed.

* * *

><p>Disoriented by crashing through the glass, I fly directly into the building across the street, smashing against the wall and falling to the ground with a loud clanging noise. The building explodes behind me, showering pieces of hot brick and glass all around me.<p>

Pull myself up off the hard ground, when suddenly footsteps and shouts of surprise can be heard from behind me. Dammit, we have company. Look to my left to see the humans already raising their guns. Curl the robotic arm around the right side of my head, and start running forward.

Bullets bounce off of me, and I can't even feel them. Wouldn't even notice if it weren't for the loud ping! that occurred every time one hit me. Jump in the air, and the jets in my feet fire up once more, lifting me. Fling my feet to the right so that I fly diagonally left as my hand transforms into a cannon.

Point the cannon in their general direction as I fly towards them from above. Blindly let off shots as my body hurls itself at them. One of the plasma bolts goes through the right side of a man's neck, incinerating his throat, and leaving his head attached by a small piece of skin.

One blows off another unnamed soldier's foot, and he falls to the ground firing his machine gun wildly, killing his other friend with a line of bullets up his leg and all the way to his head. Cannon turns back into a hand as my palm hits the ground, sending me from a cartwheel to laying on my right side, writhing in pain.

Definitely need to stop attempting flashy moves. This will soon get me killed, and my luck has been unbelievable thus far. I can hear the man with one foot cursing and screaming. Smile, as I still have the upper hand. Force myself up once again; which isn't too hard, considering most of me is robotic.

Since the other footless guy isn't a threat, I just bolt. Running through the city, I can hear buzzing from behind me. Remember those buzzbombers we talked about earlier? Come to your own conclusions. 

* * *

><p>Wince as I pull a piece of shrapnel out of my cheek with my left arm. The words 'fuck it' cross my mind, and my body leaves the ground. I'm flying out of here. Fuck being stealthy; I need medical attention. My body feels weak, and my blood is spilling all over the place.<p>

Oh, look. I can still bleed.

People can see me from the ground. I can tell, because bullets are ricocheting off my body. One hits my stomach, and this fucks up my flight pattern. Come on, body! Don't give up on me now. The mountains are so close, and beyond that is sanctuary. Just a little bit longer, please.

Unable to control my flight, the mountains get closer and closer. Close my eyes, and accept fate. Soaring through the air, bullets stop hitting me, and silence is achieved. The pain goes away, and it feels like time has slowed down. The impact with the mountain has not come. Is this death?

Open my eyes to answer my question. No, no it's not. Missed the mountain, and now the forest closes in. Check the fuel gauge on my wrist, and it's empty. Fuck. Try to roll to make my feet face the ground to take the impact, but couldn't manage it entirely. Land hard on my left side, sending waves of pain through my right side.

Then, of course, I black out again. 

* * *

><p>VD<p>

LazerTH 


	5. Cancer

Cancer 

* * *

><p>He whispers into my mind. He doesn't even need to use his voice, and I don't think he even has one. He lets me know it's okay, and that I will be fine. He comforts me with his light, and tells me he loves me. He thanks me for doing what is necessary of me, and promises things will get better. A break, he says, and this makes me smile. A break.<p>

Thanks, God. I need one. 

* * *

><p>It's almost as if my spirit is forcing itself back into my body. Aware that I'm trying to wake up, but have yet to reach this goal. Force my eyelids open, and double vision kicks in immediately. What happened? How often will this question be asked? Who knows?<p>

"Is she going to be okay, Aunt Sally?"

There's a group of mobians standing around me. Some of them I know: the doctor, the scientist, Sally, Rotor, and Antoine all stand before me. The ones I don't know consist of a tiny pink hedgehog and a fox with two tails. Yes, two tails. Now I've seen everything. The one with the two tails was the one speaking.

Try to sit up, but everything hurts. Some break. Lay back, and start coughing. With every cough, a wave of pain pounds through my skull. My right arm is… in a cast. Great, my only real limb, and it's broken. Fuck. None of this is spoken out loud. Just silence, aside from my coughing. The doctor is the first to break the ice.

"How are you feeling today?"

Like ten pounds of shit in a half ounce bag. Look over to the children at the foot of my bed, and change my answer.

Not so well, doc. What happened?  
>"We don't know. We were hoping you did."<br>What?  
>"We found you half buried in mud, bleeding all over the place. What happened to Sonic? Is he okay?" Sally answered for him.<p>

Groan loudly, and try to recall the events in my head. Close my eyes, and after a few seconds of darkness it all comes back to me. Remembering everything wasn't the hard part. The tricky part was making sense out of this mess, which actually never happened.

Alright guys. Picture this if you will. 

* * *

><p>Wasn't exactly sure how much detail was needed, so I kept it pretty vague. Didn't want to go into explicit detail with two children in the room, you understand. The tension in the room, though, it seemed like they weren't buying it. I don't know; maybe I'm paranoid. It's been such a hard week for me. Just need some real sleep is all.<p>

I hope. 

* * *

><p>Walked back to my hut unaccompanied. Open the door, which was left unlocked, and make my way over to the desk through the darkness. Feel for the chain on the old brass lamp. The light snaps on, and I have to blink a few times before my eyes can perfectly adjust.<p>

Pull the chair out from under the desk and have a seat, the wood creaking underneath my metal ass. Stare at the blank wall before me, taking special note of the particles of dust floating in the air. It's only visible under the lamp. How much of this do we breathe in? I mean, of course, back when it was necessary for me to breathe.

The chair creaks again, but I disregard it. Unwanted images flash through my mind, and it's almost like reliving those wretched moments. Close my eyes and tears roll down my cheeks. Funny, didn't know I was crying. The chair creaks again.

The image of Sonic, standing there worried about me, suddenly lifeless and falling towards me. Sitting here in bewilderment, unable to figure out what really happened. I grew up not even knowing this side of the world existed.

A loud ringing noise comes from the phone and I jump in my seat. The seat cracks under my weight and we both come crashing down. Lying here, on top of the broken wood, sobbing uncontrollably, the phone rings nine or ten times before I figure it out.

I'm supposed to pick it up. 

* * *

><p>The phone goes silent halfway through a ring and I bring it up to my ear.<p>

...Hello?  
>"Bunnie?"<br>Oh, hey Sally. What's on your mind?  
>"Look, Bunnie I… I don't want to sound like…" a sigh comes from her end of the line. "Do you think you could meet me in my office?"<br>Y- Yeah, okay. Give me… five minutes? 

* * *

><p>Sitting in the chair across from her, noting the uneasy look on her face, fear starts to overwhelm me. Paranoia. Something's definitely wrong, and she's having trouble spitting it out. She gestures towards a dish of peppermints. Thanks for offering, but no. I can't ingest things. I don't say that out loud though.<p>

Then she lays it all on me, going on about how my story is riddled with holes, and that she needs to know what really happened to Sonic. She isn't telling me everything, this is for sure. What could she possibly be hiding from me?

I tell her what really happened with Sonic. About how we were traveling up the mountain, and suddenly his head just exploded, and his lifeless body fell down the mountain. She nods, but isn't buying it. I can tell.

"Where is his body, then?"  
>Like I said, he fell down the mountain, and I left him there to complete the mission.<p>

She stares at me for the longest time, as if she were trying to figure me out. To penetrate the surface by means of eye contact. She taps her pen on the table, and holds her cheek in her palm with the other hand. This goes on for a few minutes, and I'm finally excused. 

* * *

><p>Antoine hasn't been answering his phone. I don't want to just show up over there; that might be considered rude. It's hard to gauge what gestures might be considered rude or not in this strange place. Guess I had better turn in. Don't want to call Antoine too many times, or he might get annoyed, and think I'm too clingy.<p>

It will be nice to get my first real night of sleep in a while. 

* * *

><p>Back to where we started from.<p>

My blood clouds in the porcelain bowl before me, and I can't help but catch my self spacing out into it. I stare intently, not sure why exactly I'm staring at this, and wondering at the same time why I have yet to flush it. My hand creeps over to the cold metal handle. I can tell it's cold, because I use my real hand. I pull down on it, and look down to see my blood swirl out of my presence. The bowl was once littered with red, now it's white again. Clean. As if new.

I use the rim of the toilet to lift my self up. The porcelain bowl cracks under my heavy mechanical weight, and I start sobbing again. Stumble slowly back into my bedroom, and drop to the floor as another violent spasm in my abdomen occurs. I use the bed as leverage to help me reach for the telephone. I can't reach it so I just grab the wire, and pull the whole cord phone to the floor.

Dial the emergency number, and wait through four rings before I hear the pre-recorded 'please hold' message. I sigh, and I lay my head back on the hard wooden floor. I'm a religious person you might say. I believe god does everything for a reason. I just hope there is a damn good reason for this one.

Overwhelmed by a coughing fit, the spasms grow more violent; more blood is spit onto the wooden floor. The puddle slowly creeps outward, expanding across the polished floor. Drop the phone, and examine it a bit more closely.

Is that… black? 

* * *

><p>Fuck. It isn't possible to express my intense hatred for waking up like this again and again. Vision blurs, and eyes burn, the sense of déjà vu washing over me. The doctor's standing over me, as if he knew when my awakening was going to occur. Perhaps he's been waiting for it. You never can tell.<p>

Something's different this time. The look on the doctor's face; there's some information he really doesn't want to tell me. A few moments pass by. The silence is finally broken by me. I say the only thing that comes to mind.

What? 

* * *

><p>What the doctor told me actually made me cry. This is weird, because I did not know that 'bots could cry. Part Mobian, right? Wrong. The circulatory system in my body is adapting to the change. The roboticization is finishing itself off at an alarming rate, and nothing can be done to stop it. The blood is replacing itself with oil, my veins replacing themselves with tubes.<p>

Adapting.  
>Evolving.<br>Destroying what little of me is left.

Guess I should enjoy the ability to still cry, at least. While it is still available to me, anyway. 

* * *

><p>Sensations have been lost to me. The sense of feel I once had has now numbed. Things can still be felt; just at a fraction of what they once were. What I wouldn't give to just be able to take a warm shower, or even a cold one. This lonely night, sitting here under the stars, an emptiness inside me yearns for something. I want to feel again.<p>

I wish Antoine was here. He hasn't been answering his phone. Wouldn't want to be rude, and just show up. Staring up at the sky into the sea of stars surrounding the large glowing ball in the sky. How does the moon glow like that?

Suddenly, leaves rustle in the woods. Something's moving past me. 

* * *

><p>What the fuck was that? Sit perfectly still. Don't see it, and hope to god it doesn't see me. Why am I so afraid? The crunching of the leaves gets really close, and it's time to make the decision. Stand slowly, wincing as the loud sound emanates from my bulky robotic feet. The other sound stops.<p>

Shit, it heard me. My hand quickly forms into a cannon, and my real hand makes a fist. Whatever this thing is, it's large, and it's never a bad idea to take safety measures. I'm not invincible. I can still die.

I think.

Step towards the source. Straining to see beyond the shadows, step cautiously between the trees. The only noises besides my slow, steady walking are owls hooting in the distance.

Stop.

A feeling washes over me. The voice inside my head screams at me, telling me to run the opposite direction, go back to Knothole, hide in my hole. Can't do that. One step forward, and -

BANG!

A sharp pain ruptures through my skull, and once again, I am enveloped in darkness. 

* * *

><p>VD<p>

LazerTH 


	6. God's will

God's will 

* * *

><p>How long has it been? Open my eyes to stars, and the sound of someone approaching makes itself apparant. What is going on? Where am I? When will this all make sense? There has to be some sort of redemption, or climax here for me. After all of this.<p>

I'm not dead yet. Still have a very important job to do.

Boots. Inhabited by feet that belong to someone familiar. Can't think straight. What was that name? It's important, I know that much. God, where are you?

Static. 

* * *

><p>He shakes me. It's Antoine. I remember now. I love him. It only seems reasonable. The first thing that can be seen is his outline. His face is but a silhouette, but the pale moonlight shines on his shoulders, illuminating his blue jacket. He's saying something, but I can't make it out.<p>

The pain in my head emerges once more, and passing out doesn't sound so bad. What the fuck is going on? What was that noise? Audio's muffled. This isn't right. Things look like they're being viewed from a twelve-year-old VHS cassette. Grit my teeth as my prince leans forwards. He speaks to me, his soft voice undecipherable. Reach out to wrap my arms around him.

Tears roll down my cheek.

Memories fade. Nothing else is remembered of this night. 

* * *

><p>Blue. The sky is blue. It's already part of my knowledge, and yet it feels like an entirely new experience altogether. The fluffy white clouds drift slowly along the bright canvas. A picture just for me, that is taken in for hours.<p>

Loud noises snap me from my daze. 

* * *

><p>Follow the sounds. They lead me through a trail in the forest. Dead leaves make a carpet of brown and yellow all around me. Every step is accompanied by a sound. Not like the ones I picked up earlier, but a crunching sound of leaves. Dead leaves. Pause for a second to admire the bare trees surrounding me.<p>

The question of my purpose arises. What is all of this? Why am I here? Something inside of me encourages me to follow the noises. They ring of significance to my purpose. God told me that, I think. 

* * *

><p>This is horrible. A village in ruins before me. This was my home, of that I can be sure. More questions beg an answer, but it can't be found. Everything is still erect, but bodies litter the ground. What could have possibly done this? Why?<p>

Walk through an open doorway, the door forcefully removed from its hinges, and into an office of sorts. The calander on the wall dates today as Halloween. This seems significant.

I've been here before. It's that squirrel's office. The reason this conclusion emerges is because her dead body is sprawled out beside her desk. An expression of shock is plastered across her face, blood dripping down her chin.

Can't get over the look on her face. The picture instills into my brain a mental picture that won't be forgotten. Something washes over me… an emotion?

Sadness… 'la tristesse', Antoine calls it.

Turn my attention to the papers on her desk. Sift through them, scanning each one until I come across a map of sorts. Mobotropolis. The name definitely means something. Something clicks in my head once this word surfaces.

It all comes back to me. Yes, that's right. My purpose. What god always needed me for. 

* * *

><p>Memories. Pictures, scenarios and feelings hit me like an avalanche. Glass raining around me in a golden city. The screams of Mobians ring in my ears. Anger. Hatred. Fear. All these things hit me, and I don't know what to make of them. None of this makes sense, and my existence is flawed. The pieces aren't fitting. My brain isn't functioning properly.<p>

Who am I? Why won't the memories come back entirely? Pictures, and words make me sick, and I fall to the ground, and start puking up blood. A burning sensation rises with it, and things get blurry. I pass out again, but this time it's different.

Everything goes white.

Enlightenment. 

* * *

><p>God is light, and that is all that can be made out of his divine presence. He helps me relive my life, but everything makes more sense this time around. Things put into perspective, and ideas surface that had never occurred to me before. The pieces don't exactly fit, but the big picture becomes somewhat clear. He shows me what needs to be done. The information is before me, ready to take in.<p>

Things still don't make sense, though. It's like it needs to be done with no reason behind it. Vengance? But why? It's my only reason for being, and I must obey it, but I didn't get a choice. Now all that can be remembered are little snippets with no names behind them.

It feels like my life has been taken away from me entirely. Like I'm some outside force looking in on what once was. Perhaps this is still me, just entirely different somehow. Am I looking at the puzzle wrong? 

* * *

><p>Making my way through the forest, my thoughts reflecting on the village. The burning buildings, the smoke. The dead bodies. The worst part was the isolation, the disconnection from what really happened. Things that my mind couldn't possibly comprehend. It's like not having a key to a box you own. It's all familiar, but the box can't be opened.<p>

The city beckons to me from across the forest. Can't see it, but somehow know where it is. Like a magnet, somehow it attracts me without any sound. This is my destiny; this is the purpose for my existence. There is no possible way to understand this. It's confusing, but important somehow.

In god we trust… right? 

* * *

><p>What is my name? That one is bugging the shit out of me. Not exactly sure why, but I can't get over it. Every time one memory surfaces, another one fades. Can't complete the puzzle because some little shit keeps eating the discarded pieces while I'm searching for new ones. <p>

* * *

><p>Ants. I remember those, and it somehow seems to be significant. Never seen so many of them in one concentrated area, at least I'm pretty sure I haven't. Stepped on a hill. They swarm the area around my foot, and begin crawling up my leg.<p>

I can't feel it. With my right hand, I pick one of them off of my leg. Examine it closely.

Ant.

The object has no meaning to me, but the name feels like a piece to the puzzle. Ant? It squirms in my hand, trying to escape for dear life. Loosen my grip, and it falls onto my cast, and runs down my arm. Cast? My arm doesn't even hurt.

I can't even feel it. 

* * *

><p>The city is near. So close I can smell it. I can still smell. Just over this mountain lies my destiny. The glow of the city lights lingers just above the mountain tops. They aren't very tall; they're more like giant rocky hills. You can walk all the way up, no problem. <p>

* * *

><p>A pile of rotting dead bodies. Next to the pile is a red tank. That isn't what catches my attention, though. The first thing that catches my attention is my savior. What's left of him, anyway. He was my savior, though. Not sure how, not sure why, but it fits.<p>

Reach my right arm out, and hold his hand. Can't feel anything, though. Wait… underneath him. That blue coat, that blond hair.

It can't be. Pull my savior off the pile, dragging the other bodies down with it. They all tumble over, but one sticks out of the crowd. One in particular. One side of his face is destroyed, caved in. The other side holds his real expression. Fear and shock stare up from half-face, his eye wide open. His mouth agape. He saw it coming.

Ant.  
>Oh, Ant...<p>

I can still cry.

Pictures come back. Snippets, and memories. Laughter and happiness.

Love.

Why him? Why did you have to take this perfectly innocent being? All he ever did was give me a reason to keep pushing, and this disgusting race just wiped him out.

I can't even remember full memories. Just keep in mind that he didn't deserve it. Even if I can't remember what he meant to me, it had to be something. Why did they kill him? Why did they bring him here?

Fingers curl. Muscles tighten. My hand makes a fist. The other one turns into a cannon.

Now I'm pissed off. 

* * *

><p>Signals come from two different directions, and it's extremely hard to sort them out. One source seems to be strictly dealing with facts. Places, objectives, numbers and calculations. Emotions come from somewhere else. It's as if I had two brains, and a set of instincts. That's it.<p>

Sadness is replaced with anger. I want every human I find dead. Instincts tell me to move forward, and another train of thought calculates the possibilities.

You see, the world needs to be healed. There is a cancer, sucking the planet's life dry, and it grows larger every day. This cancer has been codenamed a "city". In order to help the world heal, one must cut the cancer off at its source. This mechanical cancer that invades even me must be destroyed entirely.

This is what the time bombs are for. Found them in a storage bunker back in Knothole. The whole idea is to place these at the foundations of the city. Through chaos, the world can be at peace. Through destruction the world can start over. Reconstruct.

It's the only way. 

* * *

><p>A signal. Things beep and click into place. This city's every secret is revealed to me. Underneath the city there lies a labyrinth of tunnels and ducts that make up the sewer. There is an entrance: a waste disposal center down by the edge of the lake. My body can handle water, but if I fall in I would sink like a stone, and that would totally fuck me.<p>

Gaze one last time into the dead, forgotten companion's face.

No.  
>You won't be forgotten.<br>At least not entirely. 

* * *

><p>That's... me?<p>

No.  
>No, no, no.<br>I don't believe it.  
>Can't exactly remember what I looked like before, but I know for a fact it wasn't like this.<p>

It couldn't have been…

Could it? 

* * *

><p>Surrounded. Fuck.<p>

Constant clanking against my metallic surface. Projectiles bouncing off of my metal surface, creating multitudes of dents and discolorations. These are the least of my problems.

My jets start up without me thinking about it, and my momentum is directed towards some poor bastard before me. My right hand forms a fist, and forces its way into his stomach. Skin tearing like paper, he is my shield.

Kick my feet at an angled left, propelling my body backwards, while turning me. Bullets take care of what was left of this human. Throw my feet back, and they propel me towards the group of people. Before they were in a circle, now they have scattered.

Four of them left.

Lead begins to destroy what's left of my real arm. Blood lands on the side of my face, and my left arm turns into a cannon inside a man's stomach. Plasma melts through three people with two shots. Two birds with one stone, so to speak. Or more realistically, two heads with one plasma bolt.

With no ammunition left, the cannon quickly forms into a fist once more. 

* * *

><p>A torsoe of metal, but one arm is different. At least three-fourths of the arm. It's covered in fur, and has a white object on the forearm. Why?<p>

This isn't what bothers me the most, though. Half of my face is... weird, I-

I can't explain it.

Or maybe I don't want to... 

* * *

><p>I can't get to every vital point in the sewer through one passageway. It isn't all connected. The ones that are have tunnels only a rat could get through. A small rat. Imagine a large square area beneath the city. This square perimeter is filled with pipes and wires, pretty much making the city run. This square rests in the center of Mobotropolis.<p>

This is the heart of the city. However, there is a wall around this on each side of the square, and no way in. Over the center of the square is a very tall building which I guess is the base of operations. I have to plant a bomb on each side of this square, but I can only get to two sides at a time.

After I plant all four bombs, then comes the hard part. Distraction. Or attraction. However you like to look at it.

Start as much shit as I can, and bring as much attention as I can to the center of the city. Destroy as much as I can before we all go down.

I only have one chance at this. 

* * *

><p>Flying towards him, my body is making its own decisions. Swooping down to my left, I manage to dodge a good majority of projectiles. Others bite me in the shoulders and face. My invincibility is scaring me. Swipe the poor fucker by the neck, lifting him off the ground, and hug him to my body.<p>

His hand grasped tightly on his gun, pulling the trigger excessively. The lead flies in all directions but mine. My legs kick up behind me, my body in an L shape. Holding him in front of me, our bodies smash into a building. At this speed the sudden impact of his soft body into a brick wall would have been more than enough to fuck him up without the heavy opposing force that is me.

Bones crack, blood leaks from every orifice in his body. His skeleton caves in, and bones rip through the surface of his skin.

Together we fall.  
>Our bodies are tangled. I landed on my left side, the human and the wall before me. <p>

* * *

><p>The urge to just stop keeps tapping on my shoulder. Whispering notions of quitting in my ear, but some greater force pushes me along. I have my orders, and there is nothing else to live for but that.<p>

It's dark in here. No sounds either, except the constant rushing water around me. I need company, I need comfort, I need reassurance. What am I doing here? Why can't someone be here with me?

Loneliness. 'La solitude', Antoine would have said. That's what this is, isn't it? A robot capable of emotion. That's a new one on me.

After hours of wandering around in this horrid place, my destination has been reached. Pull my backpack off my shoulder, and set it on the damp floor next to me. Kneel, and open it.

Less than thirty minutes left by the time the second bomb is planted. Now, to find an exit. 

* * *

><p>Push the mutilated corpse off me, and roll over onto my back. The alarms catch my ear, and I wonder how long it's been sounding. Sit up, and force myself to my feet. People running and shouting can be faintly heard in the distance. How distant? Impossible to gauge because my hearing is fucked to shit.<p>

Pick the gun up off the floor. 

* * *

><p>The manhole that needs to be reached isn't far at all, and I surprisingly make it without complications. With all of the bombs planted, and the clock at twenty minutes, it's now time to begin the distraction phase.<p>

All it took was throwing two grenades in different directions. Soon after that I was surrounded.

Now, the shit really hits the fan. 

* * *

><p>At least twenty people surround me, not to mention the robots. Firing the pistol rapidly into the crowd only takes four or five people out. Meanwhile projectiles tear through what's left of me.<p>

Sparks, blood and oil surround me. My right arm has been obliterated up to the elbow. It's too much, my body falls to its knees, and I become useless. 

* * *

><p>Happiness…<p>

Can it only be achieved through chaos? Will destroying this city really put the innocent to rest, or will it just cause more pain? Is it possible to reach a utopia?

I think that heaven needs a hell to truly be heaven. Perhaps you need some sort of chaos in your life to enjoy peace. So, why this game? Why keep fighting instead of enjoying what little there is to celebrate?

I guess there is nothing for me to celebrate. Fighting is the only purpose I can find, and I guess it makes me grateful just to have one.

You can't eliminate evil. Of that, I am sure. But perhaps you can keep it at bay. 

* * *

><p>Struggling to rise, they have no mercy. Plasma melts through the right side of my face, and bullets disable function in my legs. Red and black spill from my mouth. Singed fur and blood melts down the side of my neck.<p>

Fall forward limply onto the cement. The scraping of metal against cement  
>makes me cringe.<br>I can't feel this, but it still manages to disturb me.

The foundations of the world crumble beneath me, and we all go tumbling into darkness.

It is now safe to turn off your computer. 

* * *

><p>Power ON<br>Objectives... None found.  
>Searching for signal... Search failed.<br>Run systems check... Failure.  
>Severe damage detected.<br>Unable to execute movement functions.  
>Environmental scan... Failure.<br>Accessing memory files... Unsalvageable.

Pictures run through my mind, but they are meaningless to me. They don't help me figure out my directives. My directives can't be carried out because the system has failed.

A single word keeps resurfacing.

God?

Powering down... 

* * *

><p>VD<p>

LazerTH 


End file.
